


i should stay far away

by kimaracretak



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, F/F, Hunters & Hunting, Mild Sexual Content, Past Character Death, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: Aredhel is dead, and her relationship with Thuringwethil evolves.
Relationships: Aredhel/Thuringwethil (Tolkien)
Kudos: 5
Collections: Back to Middle-earth Month 2019: Bingo Bash Redux





	i should stay far away

**Author's Note:**

> Botany G48: Nightshade  
> Horror O72: Thuringwethil and other vampires  
> The Late, Great Mary Oliver O72: If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.
> 
> [also on the swg](http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=4255&chapter=1)

The flowering nightshade is near-suffocating under the hazy moonlight. Every inhale, Aredhel expects to feel petals closing her throat, more bitter than the violets that had sustained her through long, lonely hunts through Nan Elmoth.

Not that she could be lonely here, where the trees grow more thickly than her brother's city walls ever did. Not that breath is what sustains her anymore, now she has tasted of Thuringwethil's blood. Here it feels right that her breath should be swallowed; here her desire to run is met by a hunger which would terrify her in its expanse if she dared to make the attempt to comprehend it.

The deep purple stains creep further along the hem of her dress the longer she stands amongst the flowers. She wishes for rain, the better to wash away their inky marks, to provide a challenge for the hunt.

Her quarry loves the shadows. And while the night, full of scents enough to gather thick at the back of her tongue, provides plenty of those, Aredhel feels her eyes have sharpened to the shape of her prey to the point where there is nowhere for her to hide for long.

The sharp prickling of teeth at the back of her neck is the first warning she has of Thuringwethil's presence. No leathery wings in the sky tonight, no twigs snapped beneath clawed feet. Simply the trees, and then the teeth.

Aredhel's head lolls back into the bite nearly against her will, though she makes no effort to disguise the irritation in her voice as she snaps, "You're late."

"Impossible," Thuringwethil sighs, as if the accusation is an imposition of unbearable weight. Her lips are curved against Aredhel's neck in something as close to a smile as she ever allows herself. "Did I startle you, pet, is that why you're mad?"

"Neither, as you well know." Aredhel reaches back, grasps Thuringwethil's hip with a firm hand. "You think too much of yourself."

Thuringwethil laughs, a low rumble from the hollow of her chest, and Aredhel doesn't resist as Thuringwethil slips her leg between her thighs. "And you grow complacent, little one. Do you ever stop to think why you find me so quickly, now? Do you really think you live on skill alone?"

"I don't think." Aredhel presses back against Thuringwethil's grasp, but she's held too tightly to turn around the way she wants. She wants to see the moonlight gleaming off Thuringwethil's eyes, wants to know what she looks like rising tall and proud out of the bed of poison laid over the dead leaves that would otherwise carpet the forest floor. "I know my abilities."

"Do you know me?" Thuringwethil's voice whispers across her skin, oddly gentle.

"Enough." Aredhel may not know for certain who the most dangerous creature in the woods was anymore, but she knew that nothing could hurt her too deeply.

Dying does wonders for one's perspective and one's confidence, it seems.

"Clearly not, or else you wouldn't still be here."

Perhaps she's right, but Aredhel would never give her the satisfaction of saying so aloud. Instead, she says, "I want to show you something."

Thuringwethil strokes a claw down Aredhel's arm, splitting the fabric without a thought. "I know everything in these woods, pet, including your body. What else could you possibly have to show me?"

"The body that I left," Aredhel says. "You never knew where they buried me, did you?"

"I knew," Thuringwethil says, but her voice wavers, and she amends, "Still know. But why have need of it, when you're here with me?" Her mouth lands on Aredhel's neck again, insistent and almost harsh.

Aredhel licks her lips, fighting the urge to give in to the hypnotic feel of her blood trickling down her neck. "Because," she says. "I love what we can do. And I want us to go further into the woods."

"Well." Thuringwethil's thigh presses more firmly against Aredhel between her legs, and Aredhel allows herself the moment's satisfaction of grinding against it. "If it's not far. And if we'll have time enough after."

"Yes," Aredhel whispers, the word trailing off into a sigh as Thuringwethil's wings catch on her hair, the muscles tensing for flight. "Take the nightshade with you. My body should have a grave."

"I thought you wanted it to eat," Thuringwethil says dryly, the stems snapping like bones as she complies. "Unless it's me you're wanting to poison."

She would never; without Thuringwethil there would be no worthy prey, no reason to stay, nothing to sate her hunger. But she's willing to let the vampire wonder: how would Thuringwethil feel, if she were to be alone?

So she gives no response, says, instead, "Follow me."

Thuringwethil does, and Aredhel feels her power twist at her heart. It is not every night she gets to surprise Thuringwethil, and she is eager to see what else the night will bring.


End file.
